


Home for Christmas

by jkkitty



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Blink And You Miss It Slash, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Illya, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkkitty/pseuds/jkkitty
Summary: Taking refuge in a house, the agents meet a special young boy.Request: for Down the Chimmey Affair 2018.Trish's request included:*** Sheet music.*** Tracks in the snow.*** Early morning sunlight streaming through a window.Hope this fulfill your wish.  Merry Christmas Trish





	Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/gifts).



 

Napoleon heard his partner’s cry of pain as the Thrush interrogations worked him over. Illya, as normal, had received the focus of their attention.  The American finally managed to pick the cell's lock with a bent spring from the cot.  When he called the guard over, he waited until he was in front of the cell before slamming the door open into the man’s face.  A moment later after making sure the man was unconscious, the American placed him in the cell before heading upstairs.

Peeking through the door, Napoleon saw Illya strung up while two muscle-bound men were working him over. Stunty, the Thrush chief in charge of the area, watched them while sipping a cup of steaming coffee.  “Come on Kuryakin.   I know you’re thirsty and in pain.  I have no desire to have them continue to hurt you, just tell me where the microdot is.”

“ _нет, кроме того, я знаю, что вам это нравится. В конце концов, наша последняя встреча привела к тому, что вы сняли с себя пост Сан-Франциско на этот пост в лесу. *_ Illya spit back.

Stunty shoved his chair back.  “Just keep your mouth going, you’ll see how irritated I am about the demotion.  I’m not sure if you recognize these gentlemen, so let me introduce me.  The one on your left is Robert Scribner and on the right is Anthony Ross.  Both men have wanted to meet you after their brothers’ death when you set off your last explosion.  Gentlemen feel free to show Mr. Kuryakin how you feel about his actions. I need to go into Boston for the night. Let me know if he decides to talk.”  Then Stunty slammed out of the door swearing about damn UNCLE.

Napoleon waited until he heard a car start up, before sneaking into the area where Illya was.   Noticing a shoulder harness with a gun in it on a corner table, the American circled around and grabbed it.  Standing in the middle of the floor, he cleared his throat.  “Gentlemen," he called. "Get away from him before I put a bullet in your heads.”

Both men turned and glared at him before they started toward him.  A bullet between their feet stopped their movement. “Next one will go straight into one of your hearts. Now, get over there by the wall.  You,” pointing to Robert, “Lock him in the manacles there, then close one over your right wrist.”  One they did as ordered, he moved close enough to click the Anthony second wrist in the second on.  Then grabbed rags stuffing them in the men’s mouths.

Moving quickly to Illya, Napoleon released his partner and caught him before he fell on the ground.  Grabbing a bottle of water from the corner desk, he offered a drink to Illya.  “You really need to stop antagonizing your captures.  One of these times I wouldn’t be able to get to you in time.”

“And that would be something unusual,” Illya snapped back.

“I could have left you here.”

“And have to explain it to Mr. Waverly.  Besides who else would put up with your womanizing.”  Illya attempted to move by himself but found it almost impossible

“Let’s go, partner,” Napoleon grabbed Illya around the waist and place his partner's arm around his shoulder.  Hold on.”  He then grabbed the two coats that were hanging by the door. They were gigantic but would be their only protection against the cold outside. Leaning Illya against the wall, Napoleon put the coat on his shirtless partner, then himself and opened the outside door.

The temperature was in the low 20’s, and a snowstorm had left at least a foot of light snow on the ground as the men headed toward the woods surrounding the Thrush hideout.  Just as they managed to enter the woods, they could barely hear the voices of the Thrush guards raised the alarm when it was discovered that they had escaped.  Napoleon was beginning to tier as the wetness and cold were stiffing his muscles. It was also causing his injured partner to sway even with his support both things slowed them down.  Holding Illya up as the trudged through the snow leaving clear tracks in the snow, they had no time to hide.   

The voices of their capturers seemed to be getting louder when Illya tripped. “You could leave me here and go for help.  I am keeping you back.  They will catch you if I keep slowing you down.”  Illya offered.

 “The ground is getting stonier, so hopefully, it will be harder for them to follow us. And you know my answer to your suggestion. I will never leave you behind.” Napoleon kiss Illya.  “Now let me worry about what I can and can’t do.”

Leaving the other side of the woods, a darkened house appeared before them.  After considering the safety of the house against the men chasing them, Napoleon moved as quick as possible to get Illya inside.  The clear glass terrace doorway showed a roaring fire and lit Christmas tree.  Placing Illya against the building, Napoleon quickly jimmied the door, opening it. 

Illya was quickly retrieved and moved to the couch. After removing the Russian’s wet clothes, Napoleon wrapped the blanket from the top of the sofa around his partner.  The small refrigerator in the corner caught Napoleon attention. 

“Drink this,” he said offering Illya the juice he found inside.  “You need fluids in you.”  Lifting Illya’s head, the juice was put to his lips.  “Come on partner, just sip some.”  Before long, the juice was gone.  Attempting to lie back down, a low moan came from the Russian. 

“How bad is it?” Napoleon asked helping him recline and giving him a kiss that made his shortness of breath worse. “Sorry.”

After he caught his breath again, the Russian said, “Nothing to be sorry for.  To answer your question, I have a number of cracked ribs, bruised kidneys plus the various cuts and welts around my body.  Hide this.”  Illya said as he handed him a small microdot, he had puck off his leg.

“The data?  I can’t believe they never found it.”

A small grin appeared on Illya’s face before moaning louder.  Napoleon looked around until he noticed the piano.  Going through the sheet music, he noticed one song and smiled before placing the dot on the dot of the I.

“You need to get out of your wet things,” Illya coughed out when Napoleon touched his forehead.

“Just rest, you’re running a fever.   I need to go wipe out our footprints then I’ll take the wet things off.”  Napoleon said.

Napoleon stepped back out into the cold, grabbed a broom off the patio, and stepped back in their footprints to the forest.   After reaching the tree line, he walked the other way leaving footprints leading to the larger stones then sweep the loose snow over their footsteps. Just as he was entering the room, snow began to fall once more outside lightly. He hoped it would quickly cover their footsteps better than his attempt to do so. Pulling the drapes closed on the patio window, he spotted another blanket and quickly pulled off his clothes wrapping it around him.

Illya was watching him, “You look frozen.”

“I’ll be alright once I warm up.   How are you doing?”

“Not good.”

“I search for a phone once I warm up,” then he sat on the floor close to the fire while leaning on the couch in case his partner needed him. “Get better. I have plans to celebrate New Year's Eve that includes me, you, champagne and a bed. The American wiggled his eyebrows then took a hold Illya’s hand before closing his eyes.

“So sure of yourself,” Illya teased before also closing his eyes. The warmth of the fire and quiet of the house soon had both men were sleeping soundly.   They didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind them. 

“Are you waiting for Santa?  Daddy says he will not be here for a bunch of days.” A tiny voice asked touching the CEA on the shoulder.

Napoleon jumped grabbing the gun under his cover but stopped from raising it when he saw a small boy about four holding a stuffed dog in his arms.

“You know Santa will not bring you anything if you do not sleep in a bed.   My daddy says so.  Who are you and why is he sleeping on my mommy’s couch? She used to say we cannot do that.”

“My name is Napoleon, and this is my friend Illya.  He is very sick and needed to lay down. What is your name?” Napoleon explained.

“My name is Theodore Cook, but daddy calls me Teddy.  This is my doggy Spot. It okay if he sleeps there because mommy use to wrap me in a blanket and lets me when I am sick before she went to heaven.  Did he take some medicine?  It always makes me feel better.  I can show you where to get some if you want.  I know where daddy keeps it, but you must reach it. He keeps it up, so I will not play with it. I told him I would not, but he still put it up.”

Teddy said without taking a breath.

Illya opened his eyes and attempted to move but cried out in pain. “Napoleon?”

“It’s okay.  This is Teddy.   He’s going to show me where some medication is.  I’ll be right back partner, just rest.”

Teddy looked around the couch at the agent.  “Did you fall down and get hurt? You got ouchies all over your face.”

“Da.

“What is he saying, Mister Napoleon?”

“My friend said yes.  He’s from Russia.”

After retrieving the medication, Napoleon helped Illya sit up, gave him the pain pills that he found, and water to swallow them down before helping him lay back down.  Seeing Illya’s glazed eyes, deeply flushed face, and speaking Russian, he knew Illya needed help quickly. “Teddy, can you tell me where your telephone is?”

Teddy grabbed Napoleon’s hand and led him to the phone that was in a closet.  “Daddy says we keep it there cause it’s grandpa’s and we shouldn’t use it too much because it cost money to make calls.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll charge it to my boss, so your daddy doesn’t have to pay for the call.” Napoleon made the collect call for help giving them the address on a piece of mail laying on the phone table

Teddy stood in front of the couch.  “Here,” he offered Illya his puppy.  “When I am sick, my mommy used to always tucks him in with me.  He makes me feel better, so you can use him until you are better.” Not waiting for Illya to say anything, the boy put the puppy under the blanket with the Russian.

_“Спасибо ** .”_

Trying to keep from laughing, Napoleon glanced at his partner who was glaring at him. “ _Если вы скажете хоть одно слово кому-нибудь об этом, я увижу, что вам жаль.***_   _.”_

Holding his hands up, Napoleon smiled, “Just rest.  The doctor will be here soon.  Teddy, maybe you should go to bed before your parents think you are a bad boy and come looking for you and Santa doesn't leave you anything.”  Napoleon suggested not wanting the child in danger should Thrush find them.

 “That’s okay. I do not think Santa will still give me what I really want even if I am good. Daddy says that Santa cannot afford it this year.  Daddy’s store was on fire and is all gone, so we live in grandpa house while he is in Flor…ada.”  Teddy said as he followed Napoleon back to the kitchen to get a cool rag for Illya.

Once they were back in the living room, the boy sat on Napoleon’s lap.  “What do you want from Santa?”

“A big boy bike. I got a baby one, but I am four and a big boy now.”

The sound of footsteps outside on the patio woke Napoleon up who had fallen asleep on the chair with Teddy on his lap.  Then, “This is stupid. I’m freezing and wet. They couldn’t have traveled this far with the Russian being that injured.”  Ross complained.

“The boss will have our heads if we don’t find them,” Scribner reminded him.

“Well, I say we go back and look for them in the light tomorrow.  Probably find them icicles someplace.”

“Teddy, stay by Illya.  I need to check out the noise.  Don’t make a sound.”  Then shook Illya as Teddy climbed on the couch making the Russian moan. “I think there some birds on the patio.  I’m going to check it out.”

“Birds do not stay here during the winter, Mister Napoleon,” Teddy informed the agent.

“I’ll just take a quick look,” Napoleon grabbed the gun from the beside the chair custom. 

“Mister Napoleon, my daddy told me there are no birds now,” Teddy insisted.

“Napoleon always need to prove it to himself.  He will be back soon,” Illya said covering the boy.

As Napoleon headed toward the next room to look out at the patio, he heard Teddy.  “You are really hot, Mister Illya.  Do you need to ask Mister Napoleon to get more medicine?  I will run and get him.”

“No thank you.  Just sit by me and be silent.  Let Napoleon deal with it.”

Teddy heard the noise again and ran to the patio door.  Peeking out of the patio door, he turned to Illya, “There are men with birds on their coats out there.  One has a gun.    Daddy will be so mad cause he does not like guns.”

“Come back here, Teddy.  They are bad men and will hurt you.”  Illya called out while trying to get up but was unable to lift his head.

Teddy pulled the door open just as Napoleon, who had heard Illya, came racing back into the room.

“You bad men go away, or I will call my daddy.   He says no one should come on our patio without being asked.”  Teddy yelled at them.

“Listen, kid, did you see two men coming this way before?”  Ross demanded, ignore Teddy’s comment.

“Daddy,” Teddy yelled.

“Let’s get out of here before his father comes. Stunty won’t be happy if we involve the locals.”  Scribner wasn’t in the mood for dealing with an angry father and his boss.

The Thrush guards took off running across the field into the forest and missed Napoleon pulling Teddy back into the house.

A noise behind him had the American turn around and saw a man with a gun standing behind him.

“Who are you and why are you in my house?”  Mr. Cook demanded.

Teddy ran to his father and circled his knees. “They are my friends, daddy.  Mr. Illya is very sick, and Mr. Napoleon is waiting for a doctor to come and get him.  Some bird guys tried to come in, but I scared them away.”

“I’m sorry sir. We’re UNCLE agents and partner was injured.   I needed to get him out of the cold.  We’ll compensate you for any inconvenience.  My people will be here soon to pick us up.”  Napoleon explained.

“Do you have ID?”  The man still held his gun on him but seemed to relax some.

“Sorry, they took it and our clothes,” Napoleon explained but was interrupted when Illya tried to rise again but fell back with a scream of pain.  “Illya what do you think that you’re doing?   The doctor will be here soon.”

Mr. Cook lowered the gun, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Maybe Mr. Illya needs more medicine,” Teddy said.

“Teddy, did you play with the medicine again?”  His father demanded.

“He didn’t.  He showed me where it was, and I reached it.   We’ll replace the medicine I gave to him.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to give him some more. He is badly hurt.”

“He falls down the steps, daddy,”  Teddy said a little put out that no one was talking to him right now.

The doorbell chimed just then.  Napoleon grabbed his gun, motioned for the father and son to stay back then looked out the window.   April and Mark stood there with an ambulance in the driveway.  “It’s my people.”  Napoleon opened the door and let the agents and doctor in.

See the Russian, the doctor sighed.  “Mr. Kuryakin, this is getting to be a habit with you. I assume you were your normal stubborn self again.”

“Mr. Illya fell down the stair.  Do not be mean to him.  He is my friend and hurt.”  Teddy defended his new friends.

Seeing the four-year-old with an angry look on his face, the doctor said.  “Sorry, little one.  I’ll take good care of him.”

A gurney was brought in, and Illya was carefully placed on it.  He attempted to hand the stuffed puppy back to Timmy, but the boy said, “You keep it until you better.”

“Go on with him, Napoleon. Mr. Waverly wants Mark and me to mop up the small problem in that warehouse while you head back with the information,” April informed the CEA.

Going to the sheet music on the piano, Napoleon removed the microdot from the letter I in  _I’ll Be Home for Christmas_.

Seeing the song, Mark laughed.  “Not sure Illya going to make out of medical it this time to spend Christmas at home.”

“Don’t count him out.  We know there isn’t a medical unit that can keep him in if he wants out,” April teased the Russian as he was being strapped on the gurney. 

“Very funny,” Illya struggling voice said before breaking out in a cough.   Unable to catch his breath, the doctor had him rushed to the ambulance.  “If you’re coming Mr. Solo you better come now.”

“Mr. Cook, my associates will explain everything to you.   Thank you for allowing us to use your house.”

As Napoleon headed out the door, “Mr. Napoleon, is Mr. Illya going to be all right?”

Kneeling down by the boy, “I’ll make sure he calls you went he feels better.”

“Mr. Solo, now or never,” yelled the doctor.

Napoleon kissed Teddy on the head before hurrying to the ambulance.

The early morning sunlight was streaming through the window of the patio. 

“You know that I’m going to catch hell from Waverly for helping you out of medical again, don’t you? You could have stayed in the car.” Napoleon complained stomping through the snow, the awkward wrapped gift in his arms.  The agents had spoken to Mr. Cook, and he agreed to allow them to buy it for Teddy.

“I refused to miss seeing him open the gift,” Illya told his partner.  Short of breath from just walking the small distance from the car.  “He helped me when I needed it.  Besides I need to return his puppy.”

“Maybe I such get you one.  The nurses in medical enjoyed it.   I have it on good authority some even took pictures of you with it,” Napoleon teased.

“I m aware of who suggested the pictures.  You will find it may take a while, but I will get my revenge, Mr. He Won’t Know You Are Taking The Picture.”  Illya’s smile was one that promised reprisal.

After setting the gift out of the way on the patio, they knocked on the patio door smiling as Teddy peeked out then threw the door open.  “Mr. Illya, Mr. Napoleon, Santa was here and brought me all kind of things.  And he ate the cookies and drank the milk I left for him. And….”

“Teddy let the gentlemen in,” Mr. Cook said. 

Stomping the snow off their feet, the agents came in just in time for Illya to crash into a chair. 

“Mr. Illya you still sick?  Do you need more medicine?  Daddy will get it for you.”  Teddy touched Illya’s head.  “You is hot.”

“I am fine.   I wanted to bring this back to you. Thank you for letting me use it.” Illya handed the boy his stuff dog. 

“You can keep him to you better,” Teddy said a sad look on his face as he offered it again.

“That’s okay.  He missed you a lot.  What did Santa bring you?”  Illya asked.

“Trains, cars, and clothes.”  Teddy was once more excited again. 

“And the other thing?”  Napoleon asked.

“Guess he had not enough money,” the boy said.

“Oh I thought the box outside was something you put there,” the agent said.

Teddy ran to the patio door, threw it open and started to go outside.

“Theodore!” his father yelled stopping him in his traces.

“Yes, daddy.”

“You have nothing on your feet or a robe on, and there is snow out there.”

Looking down at himself, Teddy quickly put on his slippers and bathrobe.  Seeing the wrapped box, he tried to pull in into the house.  “Help.” He called out.

Illya went to get up, but Napoleon pushed him back down, “You stay right there.  I’m not explaining to Waverly how you managed to catch pneumonia on top of everything else.”

“I am fine,” Illya pouted.

“So fine you can’t even kiss me without becoming short of breath.  Besides I don’t want to wait even longer before we can celebrate properly,  _моя любовь_ (my love).” Napoleon whispered in the Russian’s ear.  Then rose to help the boy bring in the package.

Once it was in the house, Teddy pulled the paper off and yelled as the picture of a bike showed. “He bought it.  Daddy, Santa did have money.”

As Illya moved to the floor to help put the 16-inch bike together, against Napoleon advice, Mr. Cook pulled the American aside.

“I don’t know how to thank you and Mr. Kuryakin.  The bike was more than enough of a thank you, but to fix up my store, wasn’t necessary.   I don’t know what to say but thank you.”

“You son’s help prevented the death of thousands of people.  There no need to thank us.  The help you gave us helped my partner survive.  Mr. Cook, that alone is enough thanks for me.”

After the bike was built by the four of them, Napoleon and Illya left. 

“Where to?”  Napoleon asked.

“Home.  Let’s go home for Christmas.”  Illya said.

“Home it is.” 

**Author's Note:**

> * No thank you. I  know that you are enjoying this after all our last encounter.  I heard it led to you demoted from your San Francisco post to this backwoods post."   
> ** thank you  
> *** If you say one word to anyone about this, I will see that you are sorry


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